Quote of the Day: On Guantanamo Bay

If I were in Guantanamo Bay, and I couldn’t get out and these guys will never get out, believe me…I might commit suicide too.
– Bill O’Reilly

Tags: Quote of the Day, Bill O'Reilly, Guantanamo Bay, suicide

On Turning 35

There’s something about birthdays that make people intraspective. To be honest, I would have completely forgotten my birthday this year if someone else hadn’t reminded me a few weeks ago.

O.K. That’s not completely true. My parents three cards and my mother’s call to let me know that UPS had my packages would have been a tip-off that I was turning another year older, but I would have forgotten it was one of those “milestone” birthdays had someone else not pointed it out and I guess a milestone birthday deserves some intraspection and attention.

Most of the time I have to think when someone asks me how old I am and then I’m kind of surprised at the answer. For some reason, after thirty, I kind of stopped keeping a close count like maybe that big surprise party those dysfunctional friends threw signified an end of an era and thus the end of important age counting as I knew it. After all, there’s a big difference between four and four and a half but who cares if you’re 33 or 34 years old? Well, maybe the health insurance company and their mysterious formulas, but other than that, who cares?

The truth is that I’m not one of those big birthday partiers who spends a big night on the town — I’m sure that comes as a big surprise to anyone who’s read anything I’ve written. Oh, I was when I was little. I’ve seen the pictures. Little girls and boys in cute little clothes with theme hats and party favors running and playing with balloons in a lush green backyard — yes, I have played outside before. I think there might have been a pinata and pin-the-tale-on-the-donkey too. God, I was a cute little kid.

Everyone at my fifth birthday came down with the chicken pox, by the way. I have a very vivid memory of my mother telling another little girl’s mother that she was sure the other little girl wasn’t contagious and to send her on over.

Oh, sure, there were more parties, but I do kind of think that sets the scene for a lifetime pattern.

Anyway, back to turning 35…

When I was twelve, I thought that by thirty-five, I’d be married, probably to Simon leBon or John Taylor with a lot of kids and we’d be living in England with the nanny and the kids and I’d be a well-known author and our lives would be perfect. I couldn’t really see beyond that. Thirty-five was pretty old to me then. I mean God! Thirty-five was old!

When I was eighteen, I was hoping that I’d meet the man of my dreams in college and we’d get married after college and have kids around the time we were thirty. I never even thought about after that. There was nothing beyond thirty. It didn’t matter because we’d have our perfect lives by then and that was all that mattered.
By my mid-twenties, my depression was in full swing and my cousin had committed suicide, something that has haunted me off and on over the years. To this day, I wish I understood what was going on in his mind. Perhaps if I did, perhaps I could understand myself, help myself, save myself. Though in many ways, his suicide has saved me all these years, because I’ve already seen what it would do to the family and I won’t do it to them again.

In my late twenties, I had a very optimistic breakthrough where I actually thought I might get married but in the end, I knew it wasn’t right for me. It’s worked out well for him as he has a very lovely wife now. But for that brief time I had some hope of a future but then reality set in and I realized what life would be like day in and day out for both of us. It’s hard enough for a depressive to live with herself everyday; it’s certainly not fair for someone else to have to do that as well. (And in the end I also realized that I loved him but I wasn’t “in love with him” whatever the hell that means. By the way, I still love him. He’s my frist and only real love.)

That’s about when I realized that I could barely take care of my own self let alone some other dependent small person.  The cats at least stand a chance at fending for themselves, but a small person could easily come to great harm if left to my care for longer than a few hours.  I mean, let’s face it — children terrify me and they require clean, safe living areas and someone who remembers to go to the grocery store and doesn’t put it off just one more day because a tablespoon of peanut butter is just as viable an option for dinner.

It’s also about that time that I began to wonder if I would make it past 35. I had health issues among other things and quite frankly I just have never pictured my life really beyond 35. Trips to the ER, countless visits to Radiology, a long list of doctor — it went on and on. I just felt that I was one of those doomed to die young types. I’m not sure why I picked the number “35,” but 35 was the deadline. I was going to have a heart-attack or something by the time I was 35. Something was going to happen.

Imagine my surprise when it was pointed out a few weeks ago that I was turning this milestone 35. I’d made it miraculously.

And to be honest, I don’t really know what to do with myself as this milestone passes because I guess I’m a little surprised to be here.

I know that I never expected to be this person I am today — single, childless, independent, opinionated, liberal, openminded, geeky, quirky,depressive, cat-loving, political talking, country-music listening, computer programing, slobby, anxiety-ridden, shut-in. I certainly never thought I would have been one to pack up my life and move 1700 miles from everything and everyone I knew to start over. I wonder who I might have been had things been different, though I don’t know what might have been different or what I would have changed — though I think I might have liked to have skipped the chicken pox and I think I would have liked to have had better luck with love early on but o.k., things happen for a reason, right?

So, I’ve been thinking that with this looming milestone, there are some things that maybe I’d like to work on for the next milestone birthday. That gives me, what? Five years?

Is five years enough time to train the cats to clean their own litter pans and fetch me sodas from the fridge?

Tags: Me, birthday, suicide, depression

Medically Me

So, I think the topomax is actually working. I’m on my second week and I’ve only had one migraine and that was actually due to two days of bad sleep due to no ambien due to ran out. Though, admittedly, I had initial success with topomax when they tried me on it years ago. Let’s just hope the botox/topomax combo is the magic combo.

The only problem with the topomax is the random numbness it causes in my face, fingers, hands and feet. It’s not really a problem so much as a weirdness. It’s a little distracting and there’s no rhyme or reason to it. It’s kind of like that weird tingling just right before some part of you completely “wakes up” from being numb after laying on it wrong. I suppose this is better than brain-melting-wanna-die-pain so I’ll take it.

I’m also less depressed than last week which is a good thing. Had my session with my shrink last night. She wants me to do another 10 week therapy group; this one on cognative thought therapy. I’ve been interested in this kind of therapy for a bit so I’m a bit excited about it. I think it’ll be helpful so I’m going to do it.

We talked a little bit about just how depressed I was last week. Her concern of course is always whether or not I’m depressed enough to hurt myself. I confessed to her that my mother is always worried about that too and sometimes she tells me that in words and she did this past weekend, but the truth is that I have a very vivid memory of after my cousin killed himself, my mother begged me to promise her never to let it get that bad and never to kill myself like that. I guess I just couldn’t put my mother through that. Which I guess is ironic since my family has such strong pro-assisted suicide views. Huh.

Anyway, I am better this week. I’ve got a new cause — I’m going to be organizing fundraisers for the New Orleans Public Library here in Maine though I’m not quite sure how to go about it yet. I’ve got a new movie buddy. I’ve got a new therapy group. I think I might look into getting a military pen pal (and, yes, keep politics out of it).

So, making plans. Sounds kind of optimistic.

Tags: topomax, wellness, migraine, depression, suicide, therapy, botox

How Many Suicide Bombers Have There Been Since “Mission Completed”?

This is a question I would love to have an answer for. I’ve been googling for days but no one seems to be keeping track. Heck, even the statistics on U.S. dead is kind of iffy — it all depends on if you were killed right there in active combat but not in an ambush or en route to a battle and if you were a legal U.S. citizen and not a foreigner recruited to serve in the U.S. armed forces in exchange for your citizenship; suicides and those who die of their injuries en route to or at the hospital are not counted either apparently. (One of my co-workers who served in the marines insists that the government wouldn’t play with the numbers like that.)

What I started out to look for was the number of terrorist attacks/bombings a year in the Middle East before and after the invasion of Iraq. I had read somewhere that the number had risen since Bush called the war over. Supposedly someone in the Bush administration had claimed that we were making the Middle East a safer place.

But what I’m curious about is if the number is just up in Iraq or if it is everywhere in the Middle East.

There seems to be multiple bombings everyday now and no one seems to be keeping a record. I think most Americans would be shocked about the tallied if anyone could get ahold of that information. Heck, I bet even I’d be shocked.

Tags: Suicide Bombers, Middle East

Another day, another bombing

Where’s the website crying out against the terrorists who sent a suicide bomber to kill 27 people, mostly children getting free candy from American soldiers, in Iraq this morning?

And really, what was the suicide bomber trying to accomplish? I really wish someone would explain the minds of the terrorists to me. I don’t understand how attacking Iraqis, particularly children, will help their cause or get them more support.

OK I don’t understand war at all, but I really don’t understand the murdering of noncombatants.

Tags: Suicide Bombers, Terrorists, American soldiers, Iraq

It’s not O.K. Anywhere

Yesterday, on one of the message boards I frequent, we were talking about the website We’re Not Afraid and someone commented that it’s a shame that there isn’t the same sort of outpouring of concern and dismay and rage over the same sorts of bombings that happen everyday in Iraq, Afghanistan and all over the Middle East.

The truth is that those who live in the Middle East live with almost daily bombings and assassinations and the like and those “incidents” are merely blurbs on the evening news, slipped into the days events with the Sports scores and weather updates. Every day, I hear about another bomb and more dead but no one seems to be making a big deal about those bombings and attacks.

But attack the UK, Spain, or NYC and suddenly it’s a crisis of monumental proportion.

And, yes, I understand that those things aren’t supposed to happen here and that’s why everyone is up in arms, but why is it o.k. that they’re happening there?

Why is it o.k. that it’s happening anywhere?

Tags: Middle East, Suicide Bombers, Terrorists, terrorism

This Will Never End

I really want to say something enlightening and intelligent about what is happening with the bombings in London this morning, but I just can’t. I’m just stunned and overwhelmed and swimming in that strange surreal sea of confusion, just as I was on that September 11th. It all seems so unreal and yet I can’t deny it happening. It’s like something out of an action thriller and any moment Keanu or Arnold or Vin Deisel is going to appear and save the day…and yet, there aren’t heroes like that in the real world. The real heroes are the rescue workers, the medical folks in the field and hospitals, the troops, the police, the every day people who helped strangers despite their own fears and injuries. It’s not like the movies. There is no happily ever after right before the credits. London and the rest of the world will have to deal with the aftermath for a long time to come.

And the saddest part is that I think that this will never end. There will always be some group or another that wants to wage a holy war against someone or some country or some ideology or whatever. You can’t wipe this sort of thing out. The War on Terrorism isn’t like any war we’ve fought. There’s no capital to storm, no country to embargo, no real cities to drop bombs on. These fanatics have infiltrated everywhere and every one we kill or capture is a martyr and a recruitment tool.

Iraq has become the ultimate training ground for terrorists because of us. We opened the borders to them. We made ourselves targets. We killed innocent men, women, and children and left relatives and friends with vendettas. We made this mess and we should take responsibility. We have to stop lying to ourselves. The world is not a safer place because of anything we’ve done since 9-11. If anything, we’ve made it worse by fueling the fire and giving them reasons to justify their hatred of us.

This is never going to end. There’s not going to be an action hero to save the day for us before the credits roll.

Tags: London bombing, Suicide Bombers, Terrorists, terrorism

Is the world really safer?

It’s so discouraging to hear the same story every monring on the radio — “X number of marines/soldiers/Americans dead after car/suicide bombing in Iraq.” It’s the same story every morning, but it’s not really. Every morning, it’s a different bomb and different victims. What a tragedy.

And this is where our American focus seems to be. We are so focused on Iraq and our own trials that we regulate the suffering of other countries to the back pages of the papers and the 20 second blurbs before the weekend weather report. God forbid, our desire for a sunny weekend filled with barbeques be interrupted with too much news about how the rest of the world is faring in the war against terrorism.

I’m not sure I agree with Mr. Henninger’s editorial from the OpinionJournal — in fact, I’m not really sure what he’s trying convince us of or what the solution is to the things he dredges up, but it certainly brings up some interesting facts and observations about the American POV:

According to the National Memorial Institute for the Prevention of Terrorism (established after the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing), there have been about 8,300 terrorist bombings in the world the past 10 years. They have killed more than 10,000 human beings and injured–often appallingly, one assumes–some 43,000 people. (There are separate tallies for arson, kidnapping, hijacking, etc. September 11 is listed as an “unconventional attack.”)

Before September 11 happened in the United States, and ever since, factions with grievances have been blowing up unprotected people going about the act of daily life–shopping, praying, taking their children to school, laughing with friends, burying the dead–all over the world. Places where the sudden cloudbursts of blood don’t always merit our front pages include Spain, Colombia, Israel, Sri Lanka, Kashmir, Northern Ireland, Russia, Afghanistan, India, the Philippines, Indonesia, Egypt and elsewhere.

Living in the U.S., one could make the cold-blooded calculation that 21,000 dead and 55,000 injured from all terrorist acts over 10 years is a drop in the bucket and that the war in Iraq has mainly increased the rate of death. This may be true. But if as many suicide bombs went off in Manhattan as have gone off in Israel, Manhattanites would have demanded martial law and the summary execution of suspects on street corners. Their greatest goal in life would not be, as it is now, the closing of interrogation rooms on Guantanamo but instead the erasure of terrorists hiding across the East River.

The death march of homicidal zombies in Iraq is trying to push us toward accepting the idea that acts of unrestrained violence against other human beings is now a normal part of politics. It is not normal. Any civilized person should want to resist the normalization of civilian killing as a political act–whether in Iraq, Spain, Indonesia or Kashmir.

Tags: Suicide Bombers, Iraq, terrorism